


Are You Listening?

by Broadway_trashdump



Series: Can you hear me? [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: ASL, Deaf!John, Gay John Laurens, Hamilton - Freeform, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Highschool AU, M/M, hamilton an american musical - Freeform, hearing loss, yeah are you surprised?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25097032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broadway_trashdump/pseuds/Broadway_trashdump
Summary: John has a duty to his father, go to school, become a lawyer and follow in his footsteps. His father has laid everything out for him to be the best he can be, including cochlear implants to make him a ‘normal’ kid. But, maybe John doesn’t want all that, maybe he just wants a hand to hold of one small, energetic boy.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: Can you hear me? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/699729
Comments: 30
Kudos: 68





	1. The Cards are Dealt

John was dealt the cards and yet he played his fathers game. There were many times that John felt while it was his life, it was everything that his father had meticulously planned for him since birth. Since his diagnosis. 

His father made him sound like it was terminal cancer, or he had been born with a wildly rare disease that only affects 1% of people. Like he was so broken. 

No, John was just born deaf. It never bothered him, there was really no affect to him being deaf he felt. He was about a year old when he got his first cochlear implant on his weaker ear, and then his second cochlear implant when he was about two and a half when his hearing continued declining to the point that his hearing aid no longer helped. His father foot the bill for what insurance didn’t cover, and then put him in the best schools, The best oral programs, the best speech therapists money could buy. 

But you know... money doesn’t buy love. Money doesn’t buy your dad coming to your baseball games. Money doesn’t buy your father tucking you in at night and kissing your forehead before bed as a child. 

Johns mother was the only love he ever experienced. Eleanor was kind and caring and soft. She let him have hearing breaks, where she’d take his implants off when he was overwhelmed and lay with him, slowly running her fingers up and down his arms, making him giggle. 

She smelled like honey and lavender. Warm like summer, and soft. 

Eleanor built forts with John, read him scary stories, and then read him fairytales when he was too scared from the scary stories. She chastised Henry when he was too harsh on John: 

He’s just a boy, Henry. 

He’s scared, Henry. 

Show him you care, Henry. 

She died in the Autumn when John was 7 years old. Just three days after his birthday. Looking back, it happened all so quickly. It seemed she was sick one week, had heart surgery, then next week she passed away. But really, it was over a year. John doesn’t remember too much from that year, except the pain he had, the pain he still has. it's been nine years, this October it will be a ten whole years.

Ten years 

John found her, he begged her to get up, he pulled and pulled and cried. Henry was away on a business trip and by the time the nurse who came to check on Eleanor every day arrived, John was asleep curled in bed with her, tears streaking his face. 

A kind paramedic held him and stroked his hair while the ambulance collected her and took her away. 

That was the last time John felt loved. Now his life was cold and calculated. 

————— 

John snapped out of his daydream analyzing everything that’s gone wrong in his life thus far when the bus lurched to a stop. 

This was his life now. 

Since he was seven his father now has moved them across the country several times. Packing up him and his siblings and hitting the gravel. South Carolina, Maryland, Ohio, now New York. The worst part was that this was a mid-year move and no private schools in the city had openings for him. 

So that’s how we ended up here. On a public school bus. On the way to a public school. 

First of all, how did public school students wake up every morning and pick clothes out? Private school was so easy; blazer, white shirt, tie... 

John decided he wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible so he went with a black hoodie and black jog pants, his hair braided back in two braids, perfectly positioned so he could pop his processor on when he got off the bus. That was probably the worst part of his implants— where kids with normal hearing could filter sound and listen to one specific person in a crowded place like a bus— John could not. 

Loud situations made him uncomfortable, it made his head pound. It exhausted him. Auditory exhaustion is what it was called, if he wanted to be technical. 

As the students began filing off the bus John just sighed and picked up his backpack, fiddling with the zipper on his processor case. He won’t probably put them on until class is about to start, cherishing the last moments of calming silence. 

Of course when you are deaf, you should probably watch where you’re going. 

as John traveled through the hallway, looking through the file of papers the office gave him to find his locker and his lunch code and his schedule. He of course ended up crashing into some random girl, absolutely knocking her to the ground and gracefully dropping all of his things on top of her, his processor case rolling away. 

Fuck John what the hell!? 

Quickly a crowd formed around them, as John scurried to help her up and collect his papers 

“I’m so so sorry! I wasn’t paying any attention!” John could feel his speech slipping and he absolutely was yelling and did not have to be yelling. 

She had apologetic eyes, John couldn’t hear her but he knew she was apologizing too. She was a small girl with long curly brown hair and a round face. The crowd quickly dissipated and it was basically just the two of them in the hallway. 

“I can’t hear you, my implant is in my case.” 

Realization hit John quickly as he looked around for his silver case, tearing things out of his backpack. 

The girl tapped his leg, he looked up and she was talking to someone down the hall. He followed her gaze and saw two older boys bounding down the hallway, one tall and slim, his thick kinky hair in a tight bun at the top of his head one a little shorter and a thicker build, a dark green beanie pulled over his hair. 

The taller one was carrying his case. Thank fuck. 

John scrambled up and met the duo midway down the hallway 

“Fuck, thank you.” John said as he grabbed the case, unzipping it quickly and popping the brown processors on.

His father always made sure they were brown, color matched to his hair to make him seem as normal as possible. Almost normal. 

Instantly the sound flooded into his head, the electric crackle of the light bulbs above, and the sound of lockers being slammed all around him. He throws himself down to the floor again, helping the girl pick up her papers that fell out of her art portfolio .

“Again, I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and I was trying to find Mr. Knox's room, and then I couldn’t hear a—and..” 

“Hey hey! It’s okay, don’t worry about it dude. I wasn’t really paying attention either. That’s what I get for talking to Laf and Herc from down the hall” the girl says laughing and handing John back his papers. 

The two dudes— who John can only assume are Laf and Herc— quickly hoist the girl up and pretend to dust her off and check her head. 

John just picks up his stuff and starts to turn away— 

“Hey, you said you needed help getting to Mr. Knox's class? I can show you where it is; it’s just down the hall.” The shorter man said. John turned back and smiled 

“I mean uh, if you don’t have time I’ll find it I’m not too worried about it... but I’d really appreciate it!” John chirped, turning on the private school charm a little too high. 

“I’m Herc by the way, this is Peggy” he says gesturing to the girl John bumped “and this is—“ 

The taller boy instantly pressed a finger to Herc’s lips and shushed him. 

“I am Lafayette, please call me Laf. A true pleasure to meet you...?” He said waving his hand, suggesting John now give his name. 

“Oh! Oh I’m John, John Laurens.” 

Lafayette tries to continue but is swiftly cut off by the bell. 

The three friends wave to each other and all break away, Hercules turning to John— 

“So Mr. Knox, AP US history?... you must be pretty smart. Mr. Knox doesn’t usually accept students halfway through the year..” 

John just laughs and nods his head, thinking about how, in actuality, at his last school he was taking APUSH, AP Euro and WHAP all at the same time, but this school only offered AP US History, so it’ll have to do. 

“Yeah.. not to toot my own horn but... at my last school I was taking three AP classes.” 

“Oh ho hooo we have a modern Albert Einstein huh?” Herc chuckles, nudging John with his elbow. 

————— 

The rest of the day rolled along, until Johns most hated period of the day. 

Lunch. 

The only things John can think of as he watched the other kids file into the lunchroom were: 

-any cliche teen-coming-of-age movie of food fights starting  
-any cliche of him being bullied in the cafeteria  
-him losing a processor. His dad would absolutely murder him for that one.  
-him having to eat alone. 

Well, maybe the last one wasn’t so bad, he could take a hearing break at least. John just sighed ruffing though his backpack for the banana and uncrustables he threw in there this morning 

————

Peggy drops her tray on the table next to her sister Eliza who scoffs and tosses a grape back onto Peggy's tray. She’s craning over Herc and Laf looking for someone... 

“Pegs who are you looking for?” Angelica asks, swiping a (different) grape off of Peggy's tray. 

“This new kid. He bumped into me in the hallway this morning, his name was John... he seemed like he needed some friends, You know we don’t let people eat lunch alone.” 

Laf scoffs and throws a grape at her “Sit down Margarita, the boy is not a stray cat for you to save!” 

Peggy just shoved him from across the table when she spots John, who frantically is searching for an empty table to sit at. 

“John!! John over here!” Hercules calls, his head snaps up looking around until he locks eyes with Herc and heads over.

“Herculesssssssss that was supposed to be my invitation!” Peggy whines, stamping her foot. when John arrives at the table Hercules and Laf both scoot down so John can take the spot at the end of the table, in front of the Schulyer sisters. 

“Uh... hey.” John says quietly, pulling out his cellphone to adjust his processor for the noise of the lunchroom, not turning it completely off, but low enough that all the voices didn’t make his brain shake. 

John looked around the table and slid his phone to the middle of the group. The speaker will collect local sounds and send them right to his processors so he can hear it he group better. For a minute, he fears the questions. His father always wanted him to just blend in. Just fade in the background. The tech always made it hard. Asking about mic packs and batteries and why does he have these things on his head and how do they stick to his head?

Luckily for John, no questions come and he begins picking apart his banana, getting all the stringy pieces off of it. 

“So John, where did you move from? What’s your story? Peggy told us about your run in this morning.” Eliza says, nudging Peggy's arm, giggling. 

John laughs and starts to explain when Angelica cuts him off 

“Oh god here he comes.” She sighs. Peggy just moves her tray down the table then takes Johns uncrustable and moves it from the edge of the table as well. Before John can even question an absolute whirlwind of a human slams his hands down on the table, ironically right where John's would have been. 

Good call, Peggy. 

his backpack is thrown down to the opposite end of the table. John turns to look up at him and 

Oh. 

John saw his eyes first, fierce and deep brown pools, like looking into murky water as the sun illuminated it. His long brown hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and he’s wearing a too large hoodie. The next thing he noticed was him absolutely talking at a speed his processor can’t keep up with, waving his hands erratically.

“And FINALLY,—“ Alex says, taking what seems to be his first breath “who the fuck is sitting in my seat”. 

John snaps his head up to meet Peggy’s gaze, then to Alex who is looking at him suspiciously. 

“I’m sorry? I didn’t know. I can—“John grabs his backpack and uncrustable but Alex just laughs at waves a hand at him 

“Nah nah, just scoot over I’ll squeeze on the end.” 

Alex weaseled his way onto the bench and John could feel his shoulders heat up where they touched. John couldn’t help but glance at Alex and record the details of the face he wanted to remember. 

The rest of lunch continued with no problems, the group even got John to laugh a few times. 

Peggy noted to herself that he was a pretty serious kid, she’ll have to keep working on breaking his shell down. 

She also noted the way he looked at Alexander. The way he just randomly smiled while Alexander was talking. 

Or the way that Alex looked at John when he was picking the edge off of his sandwich, or how you could see his heart melt when John laughed. 

She’ll have to keep working on that, too. 

————— 

As lunch finished up, Alex turned to John, playing it cool—

“So every Monday we do movie nights at the sisters' house. If you want, I talked to Peggy and she said you should come.” Alex said cooly leaning on the table as he sat backwards on the bench. As Laf watched this unfold he couldn’t help but scoff as he watched the exchange, but luckily, John didn’t hear him. 

Nor did John see Alex shoot daggers at Laf a silent shut the fuck up being expressed 

John chuckles and agrees, and they trade phone numbers as Alex sends him the address.

See you there. 

John quickly gets up and heads to his next class, Alex watches him scoot out of the lunchroom and then turns back to the table to grab his backpack 

Alex feels every set of eyes staring at him. 

“What!?” 

Angelica gets up, grabbing her tray 

“Alexander Hamilton... we just watched you absolutely, TERRIBLY, flirt with the new kid for the last hour. And somehow you still got a number out of it.” She says as she dumps her tray in the trash. 

“It was legendary, dude. Who else has no game but still pulls dudes?” Herc says as they’re all walking out of the cafeteria.

“I wasn’t trying to pull him! He’s too sweet and innocent for that.” Alex says, tossing his backpack on. 

But that doesn’t mean his heart didn’t flutter when John spoke.


	2. The Game is Played

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These next two chapters were one chapter that I broke up. It’s probably boring but I had fun writing it. 
> 
> Fights, secrets and friendships

The rest of the day breezed on for John, easily joining the flow of work in his classes. He had texted the family nanny, Kitty, telling her he wouldn’t be home until later, how he was going to hang with friends today. His father was, as usual, away on business— campaigning to finally start his political career for New York. If John really thought about it— he might be in Albany this week? Maybe Rochester. He can’t remember. 

John approached his last class of the day, economics with Mr. washington. He was early, as usual, and just came in silently and sat in the front row. 

John had to sit in the front row, corner seat. No one to his left was the best for him anyway, his right processor always worked better anyway. The further away he was the more distorted sound became; who likes to sit in the front anyway?

Mr. Washington noticed John after a few moments- “Oh! Oh hello son, I didn’t even see you sneak in. You must be—“ he pauses to click on his email. “Ah! John Laurens. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Mr. Washington, obviously, advanced Economics teacher.” He says with a chuckle. 

John just smiles and nods. 

“Not a man of many words I see, well that’ll be just fine. There’s a few students in this class who will talk enough for all of us, my son included.” He adds with a chuckle. 

After a few moments the class is slowly filling, John just sits, watching as they walk in. In a stark contrast to lunch, he sees Alexander walk in silently. John studies his body language, he’s seemed to have shrunk in on himself, the heat of aggravation? Maybe annoyance radiating off of him. John notes he’s slightly limping, if you weren’t paying attention you wouldn’t notice. John doesn’t recall him limping earlier. 

He walks up to Mr. Washington’s desk, chatting. In normal circumstances a kid with normal hearing could probably hear the conversation but the rest of the class chatting ruined Johns chance of hearing. He continued to watch Alex talk, he begins rubbing his hip while he talks to Mr. Washington. John just shrugs, maybe he fell on the way here. After a few moments Mr. Washington just pats Alex on the arm and from what John can read on his lips, tells Alex it’s almost time to start class. Alex sighs, and turns away from Mr. Washington instantly catching Johns eye— who obviously has been staring. John quickly looks away to peer out of the window, looking out to a pond behind the school. 

Alex comes and sits next to John— “what did you hear?” a slight venom slipping off his tongue. 

John pretends to turn his implant on and raises an eyebrow to Alex “huh? What did you say?” 

Alex seems to let go of a breath, visibly relaxing.  
“Are you okay though?” John asks, still acting like he’s adjusting his receiver 

“I— yeah.. I’m-“ 

“Get the fuck out of my seat.” 

John looks up and a tall boy stands in front of him, his hair a curly halo around his head. He’s tall, John has to almost crane his head up to see who’s talking to him. The boy is leaning on the desk that John now occupies. Mr. Washington is still standing in the hallway greeting students as they walk by 

“What are you talking about?” 

“WhAt ArE yOu TalKing aBouT” the boy repeats back, faking a deaf accent, pretending to do sign language as he speaks with the accent. “Are you deaf and dumb too? Your daddy really spent thousands and thousands for you to still be a fucking idiot? Get the fuck out of my seat?” 

“Thomas leave him al-“ 

“I don’t remember asking you, Peggy.” Thomas says turning to Alex. Before John can even offer to move seats Alex lunges up almost grabbing Thomas by the neck of his hoodie— before he gets the chance Mr. Washington is between the two of them. 

“Thomas. Office. NOW.” Mr. Washington says, Alex still visibly fuming. The bell rings, and the students who were just staring all return to their seats silent. 

“Alexander, go wait in the hallway.” 

Alex just moves past him and exits the room. John doesn’t know what happened exactly, but worries for Alex. Hopefully he still comes to the Schuyler’s for movie night. 

————— 

Class passes seamlessly, except one thing: Alex never came back, nor did Thomas, which John was thankful for. In the back of his mind the memory of Thomas mocking him burned, he worked too long and too hard in speech therapy to not sound like that. He felt the insecurity building up inside of him, re-scanning all the things he said for a hint of an accent. He couldn’t find it but it still hurt. 

Either way— John fills up easily three or four pages of detailed notes, hoping to share them with Alex. He doesn’t want him to get behind and Mr. Washington had at least 50 slides of information today on trickle down economics. Thanks, Ronald Reagan. 

The room quickly emptied as kids headed to the bus or their own cars ready to be home for the night. John stayed behind a little bit, slowly packing up his backpack. He watched Mr. Washington clean off the white board where he wrote some notes that he was missing off. 

“If you’re going to stand there son you better start helping me clean up.” 

John just laughs and picks up an eraser, erasing the other side of the board. 

“Mr. Washington, uh sir...” John started, looking at the little figure Mr. Washington drew to explain something. He looks up to Mr. Washington, who is waiting almost expecting a question. 

“Is Alex okay?” 

Mr. Washington looks shocked, but curbs his expression quickly back to a cool, controlled look as he went back to wiping the board 

“Ah, yes... Thomas just knows how to get under people’s skin very easily...” 

John notes how Washington’s knuckles turn white as he clutches the eraser. 

“No, I mean even before that... I’m not trying to be nosy sir, I just... want to make sure he’s okay.” John says, shrugging. 

Mr. Washington smiles softly.

“I see my son already got his grubby little hands on you.” He says laughing. 

“THAT'S your son?” John says tossing the eraser back on the sill of the whiteboard.

“You can’t see the resemblance?” Mr. Washington says, a chuckle escaping his lips as John looks on bewildered.

“No, no, he is adopted. As is Lafayette, we took them in as children.” Mr. Washington says nodding at the memory and how old he’s grown. 

John just stands there stunned. 

“So I took such detailed notes for Alex for no reason?” 

Mr. Washington laughs, a deep 'belly laugh doubling over laughing' Kind of laugh. “Oh John, Alexander could teach this class better than I ever could. He could teach circles around me. The kid knows more about every detail of this countries economic system than I could dream. That’s why I let him leave today. He wrote the PowerPoint,” He grows serious quickly “but you should always take detailed notes to not miss information.” 

Johns cheeks were tinted pink and he rubbed his head, a small 'oh' escaping his mouth. 

Before he could add anything else the gang busts into the room, a storm of chatter and laughing. 

“John! Did you see my note about meeting here?” Herc asks breaking away from the group as they swarm Washington to chat him up. 

“Note? I never left Mr. Washington’s room... it just worked in my favor.” John said laughing softly. 

“Where is my wee Alexander?” Laf asks to the group, looking around the room “he also has this class for final bell... where has he gone?” 

Laf looks to Mr. Washington quizzically “what happened?” 

George just sighs and continues packing his bag “Thomas—“ 

A chorus of groans and complaints come from the group.  
“Oh my fucking GOD.” Laf groans, slamming his backpack down on the table in front of him. 

Guilt burned in the pit of John's stomach, it was his fault after all, he should’ve just moved out of the seat and Alex wouldn’t have been a bystander to his own stupidity. John shuffled his feet, he should’ve just moved.

As if on queue, alexander walked in with a stack of books in his hands, looking genuinely excited as he bounced in the room 

“George! George look!!! Martha got these books in the library for me.” Alex dropped the stack of books on the table, excitedly flipping through the pages of the top one, ‘A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economies’ by Karl Marx 

George scoffs and then laughs— “are you tired of American economics you’ve moved on to global economic ideologies?” 

“Well my economics teacher has to dumb down the curriculum for all the boring kids so—“ 

The two of them instantly are shooting off at the mouth, a healthy banter between them. John watches on from where the rest of the group stands, as they all chat around him he can’t help but notice the relationship between George and Alex. 

“They could go like that for hours.” Eliza says, breaking away from the group to walk with John as they begin walking to the parking lot. 

“Eliza, I know you’ve only known me for a couple hours but can I ask you something?” John asks quietly, trying not to get the attention of the group. 

“Oh; of course John, I already consider you my  
friend so... shoot.” Eliza says smiling softly. 

“Well today that kid, Thomas I think? He called Alex ‘Peggy’— like? What does that mean? Your sister?” John looks ahead, confused, as if he’s trying to piece together the connection from Peggy— the sweet girl in the yellow sweater, to Alex, the small boy who apparently writes curriculum for economics classes. 

Eliza just sighs and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“John, it’s really not my story to tell. Let’s just say that we all have parts of us we are not proud of, or are embarrassed about. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.” She says, squeezing his arm reassuringly “but, I can promise you that Alex is okay, he bounces back pretty easily.” She gestures ahead where Alex and Laf are now slap fighting waiting for George to find the keys to the minivan the group now stood in front of. John couldn’t help but smile watching Alex trying to reach up and smack Laf, while laf just looks down to get Alex. 

As they began piling in the van John realized there were 7 seats in the Van, and he was the 8th person 

“Oh.. I uh, I could just grab an uber.” He said already pulling out his cellphone. Peggy quickly pulled the phone out of his hand, looking at him incredulously 

“John Laurens! As if we didn’t plan ahead how to fit 8 people in here. You’re our friend now, John, accept that!” She laughs as she pulls him into the van. George and Alex are in the first two seats of the mini-van, the second row is Laf and Herc and then finally in the back row is John, Eliza and Angelica with Peggy on her lap. 

The conversations were all staggered, no one really addressing the whole group. John and the sisters were in their own world. Eliza turned to him to continue chatting and Peggy laid across the three of their laps— her head resting on Johns knee.

“So John, you never got to tell us at lunch— where are you from?” 

————

Alex had won the battle on proving that capitalism is not the one all be all economic system against George, and was now turned around talking to Laf about who the best Spider-Man was— (which, obviously is Andrew Garfield for quality connected to the comics, but Alex just thought Tom Holland was so cute.) when he saw John, chatting with the sisters and watched how he was playing with Peggy’s hair, and how Peggy’s head was on his lap, And he hated it. He hated how they would make a beautiful couple. He hated that no one would ever want to be with him. It made his stomach turn. Alex didn’t realize he was still staring at John until John made eye contact with him. 

Johns eyes were filled with worry, 

“You okay?” John mouthed from the third row— Alex just smiled and nodded, giving him a thumbs up. 

Maybe someday he’ll actually feel okay. 

——————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses as to what’s going on with Alex?


	3. The dice is rolled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night, the truth, acceptance

George let the kids out at the Schuyler's, it looked pretty average to John, a simple house, but to other standards it was a mansion. Marble steps and beautiful columns surrounding the front door, which was a beautiful etched glass. It was pretty similar set up to his families home, if John thought about it his house was probably not too far. John knew all too well about Philip Schuyler, his father was trying to rub elbows with him, politicians just lick each others boots all day long. 

“I’ll never get over how... Over the top this place is.” Herc says, being careful to sit on the couch in their movie room. 

“It’s modest. If father had it any other way we’d not be in such a small place.” Angelica said, connecting the projector to her laptop 

“John where do you life?” Laf asked, and was quickly corrected by Herc 

“where does he live, not life.” 

“Oh, uh... I actually live a few blocks down I think. 103th and Mercer Ave?” 

Everyone’s eyes snap up to him 

“The Mercer House? You live in the brick front dark house on Mercer?” Herc says, jaw dropping slightly 

“Uh yeah?” 

“Oh my god don’t tell my mom, she’ll kill you. That’s like...? THE house.” Peggy says, bouncing up to sit on her knees and crawl closer to John. 

“It’s? It’s just a house?” John says laughing. 

“Nah, that’s like... THE house. A pool, a game room, climbing ivy? The white moms would murder for that house.” Herc says, day dreaming about the house “you’ve gotta invite us over.” 

John makes a note to ask about the game room, he didn’t even know he had a game room. 

Alex and Laf are just watching the whole thing unfold. Herc has a passion for interior design and the girls just loved the Mercer house, but neither of them had any claim to this conversation. While the others were distracted, crowding around John on the couch and asking about his home, Laf turned to Alex, who was sitting in a beanbag chair next to him. 

“Are you really okay, wee one?” 

Alex sighs and looks down picking off something on his pants. “you know me, I’m gonna be fine.” 

“You know there’s nothing to hide. We all love you the way you are.” 

Alex’s eyes shoot to John. 

“I don’t think he would have any qualms about it. One in a similar situation has no place to speak.” Laf says tapping his ear as an explanation. 

“That made no sense, why are you talking like a fortune cookie?” 

Both Alex and Laf laugh at this, then Alex sighs and goes back to now pulling a thread on the hole in his jeans 

“Do you think he could ever... like— like like me?” Alex asks, not making eye contact with Laf.

“Alexander Hamilton. Are you telling me that you have a crush on a one John Laurens?” Laf says leaning down into Alex’s line of vision 

“No! I never said that! I just—“ the burning pink on his cheeks betrayed him more than his loss of words ever could. 

“Well, as your brother and your friend I cannot speak for him but I do know he was very worried after you left George’s class. He even took very detailed notes for you so you didn’t miss anything from the day.” 

This made Alex smile, he didn’t need the notes but the fact that John thought of him and took special notes just for him made his heart flutter. 

“Okay come on, everyone get comfortable. Big Fish is up first.“ Angelica says starting the movie, John pulled up a big pillow and leans on the couch, sitting criss cross on the floor. Alex sits next to him pulling down a blanket to wrap himself in, Alex glances at John and offers a corner of the blanket to him, which he accepts gladly. John can’t help the thought of holding Alex’s hand.   
———— 

They were at least four movies into the night, John had been watching intently, soaking in as much as he could. He was never able to really watch TV or movies, his father always preferred him to be reading or creating something on his own, not just being a ‘bump on a log’. When he finally looked around he realized everyone else was asleep, Alex curled up in a blanket next to him, the rest on various couches or bean bags together. John got up quietly, trying not to disturb anyone, and headed in the direction of what he hoped was the kitchen. He checked his phone and the time was nearing 1 AM. Moonlight was streaming into the kitchen from large windows looking out into their backyard. John could feel the familiar pulsating headache burning the sides of his head, he definitely had his processors on too long. He quickly pulled them off and stuck them together, tossing them gently on the counter and began looking for a glass of water. 

———

Alex sat up and stretched as the end credits to The Hunger Games rolled across the screen, looking to the spot John recently occupied—empty. Alex looked around quizzically, where did he go? 

The house was dark as Alex maneuvered through silently, already knowing the layout of the house since childhood. Alex crept up silently to the kitchen and peeped in through the door. John was sat at the table in front of the windows looking out to the moon, holding a glass of water in his hands. Alex couldn’t bring himself to move, just watching. 

Cool tones of blue and navy were washing onto Johns skin, the cool air seeping in through the old walls of the house from the brisk October air outside. Moonbeams casting the whole room in a beautiful hue, but Johns beauty just highlighted it. 

“Hey.” Alexander practically whispered. 

John continued looking out the window mindlessly sipping his water. he was watching the tall grass dance from the wind, small leaves dancing in the moonlight, it made him want to get up and dance in the wind too. 

Alex decided maybe he should just stop staring and go over. 

“John? Hey?” Alex said as he pulled the chair out next to him, Johns head snapped up to meet Alex’s gaze, then glancing over to his implants sitting on the counter. 

“I ca_t _ear you.” John says, too lazy to focus 100% on his speaking voice, allowing his consonants to slip away, giving Alex the one minute finger while he went to retrieve his processors. 

Alex just sat and waited patiently for him to return. 

As John sat he plopped one processor on, fiddling with the other in his hand, eventually just tossing it on the table in front of him and Alex 

“Are you okay?” 

John looks up, meeting the worried expression spread across Alexander’s face. It made his heart swell how at cute he looked, his eyebrows furrowed, worry lining his face. John just lets out a soft giggle. 

“I could ask you the same.” 

“I asked first.” 

“Technically I asked first in the car.” John says definitively. 

Alex laughs and then scratches the back of his head. 

“Yeah I’m fine. Thomas just knows how to get under my skin, and he didn’t have the right to mock you like that.” 

John just shrugs. 

“Can I ask you something?” Alex says as he reaches and studies Johns other processor. He smiles at the little golden star stickers scattered around the brown plastic. Alex noted that it felt heavy, for such a small thing it weighed relatively the same as a small rock, Alex couldn’t imagine having this weigh down his ears every day all day on end. 

John nods, watching him fiddle with the piece, examining the circle piece that would connect to Johns head, the transmitter. 

“I mean, I actually have a lot of questions. But uh... did it hurt?” 

“Nah, I was a kid, I don’t remember it.” 

“How does it work?” 

“Well there’s a stimulator under my skin and it activates the part of my ear that doesn’t work through that—“ John says pointing to the circular transmitter. “And this is the processor, it makes sounds into waves, basically what my ear is supposed to do anyway.” He finishes, pointing to the part that sits behind his ear. 

“Okay now here the actual question I had.” Alex says putting down the piece as he begins to tap his fingers nervously. “How are you— like... how are you not embarrassed about it?” 

“What do I have to be embarrassed about exactly?” John asks, anger coating his words as he crosses his arms. 

“No no! That’s not what I mean— I just... I mean like— other disabled people you know? They can be like embarrassed about whatever they have and want to hide it and you don’t. You don’t hide it, you ask for clarification if you need, you remind teachers to turn the captions on videos for you and you decorate your little processor instead of hiding them in your hair and.. and not all disabled people feel that way.” Alex just sighs “how do you do that?” 

John was shocked for a moment, and considered his words. 

“It took a long time.” He finally said after several beats of silence 

“My mom is the reason, mostly. I used to get bullied for them, kids would call me radio head and all that. But, she used to say—“ John laughs softly, remembering his mama, who he very rarely talked about. He kept her locked away in a room in his heart especially for her. No one cared for his stories of her, and the tears that followed. so he kept her safe. But something about the way Alex focused, the way he devoted all attention to John’s story was able to pop the lock on that door. 

John could feel his throat burning already. He pressed on anyway— “she used to say that ‘courage is being yourself everyday in a world that tells you you have to be someone else.’ So, that's what I did. I decided that I was gonna be myself and these are a part of me.” 

Alex just watches as John blinks away tears. He wants to hug him. He wants to let him know it’s okay. Alex’s chest burned also with the longing of being as prideful as John. He hated the part of him that made him feel this way, and he wished he could just feel normal too. 

“You don’t think— like using equipment makes you less of a person?” 

John scoffs, a laugh mixed in there as he smiles “no person is less of a person. We’re all just 100% people, I am just as much of a person as you, and you’re as much of a person as someone who has autism, and they’re as much of a person as someone missing an arm or a leg. We’re all just trying to live on this big old world you know? And I’d be friends with any varying degree of people— if there were degrees of people.” 

Alex is zoning out, thinking about it. Thinking that he would like to be as pure as John. To be as accepting as John. Alex thought about the pain in his leg, and how he had to hide it, but what— just what if he didn’t. 

“Why do you ask?” 

Alex snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to John who still has one processor on, the other still between them on the table. Alex doesn’t know what to say. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Alex. It’s not my place to force someone to explain their reasoning but those seemed like personal questions that reflected back on yourself.” 

Alex just looked at John, after being read for absolute filth like that. 

Alex just sighs and swings his legs out from under the table, his hands shaky. John is unsure of what’s happening but out of instinct he grabs Alex’s shaky hand, steadying them. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

“I want to.” 

John releases his hands and Alex slowly pulls his right pant leg up, revealing a prosthetic leg. His shoes cover the fake foot, then leads to a silver pole that disappears under his jeans. Alex’s hands are still shaking, it looks like he could rip a hole right in the denim that he’s holding up, John just takes his hands off the jeans and pulls his pant leg back down. 

“Can I ask a question?” John finally breaks the silence, echoing Alexander earlier in the conversation. Alex just nods his head. 

“How’d it happen?” 

“When I was a kid, I used to live on an island with my mom— and one year a hurricane came through and destroyed my town. I—Uh, I got pinned under my house that collapsed, and it started to flood. I laid there for three days, water coming up to my chest, my face barely above the water. I watched rescue crews fly over, looking for anyone alive, and I tried to scream, but no body could hear me. Finally, they had body sniffing dogs come through to get any—“ Alex gulped “any dead bodies out of the town, and they found me. They airlifted me to a hospital in Miami and my leg was just... unsalvageable. So I got the ole chop chop” Alex adds trying to end the story on a comical note. Also hating himself for just saying ‘chop chop’ when referring to the most traumatic thing that has ever happened to him. 

“I’m really glad you told me. It gives me a good alibi to beat the shit out of Thomas on Monday.” John says flippantly 

“No! Don’t get suspended on my accord.” Alex says, giggling. 

John puts his hand on Alex’s left knee in a comforting way— “no really, thank you for telling me. I know that was hard for you.” 

Alex leans forward and rests his hand on Johns knee, their faces inches away from each other “thank you for making me feel like a whole person again.” They’re both slowly leaning closer, the moonlight beaming through into their faces. 

Suddenly the lights flip on, and in the doorway is the whole gang watching. John and Alex jump away from each other quickly standing to face the group. Angelica is the first to speak up 

“What is going on in here!?” 

Eliza and Peggy laugh and wink suggestively 

“Ang, maybe we should leave them be they were clearly in the middle of something.” Peggy says, causing Johns face to become beet red as he rubs his head. 

“Fuck off peggy!” Alex spits, and playfully shoves her. 

“Do you guys just want to sleep over? I’d feel bad calling Washington at 3AM.” Eliza says “but there’s four of you and we only have three guest rooms, oh no! Whoever will be stuck sharing a room together!?” 

The group laughs and even John begins to giggle— he and Alex agree to share a room but John will take the floor and Alex can have the bed— he begrudgingly agreed after losing Rock Paper Scissors. 

Alex had a drawer of clothes at the sisters house, so he gave John a set of pajama pants. Alex put on his own pajama bottoms and sat on the edge of the bed, while John made a makeshift bed out of blankets on the floor. he soon settled on the ground, sitting criss cross as he plugs his phone into the wall, doing some end-of-the-night mindless scrolling. 

“Uh... John?” 

John looks up to meet Alex’s eye, waiting for his question. 

“Do you— do you mind if I...?” Alex says, pointing to his right leg. “I just didn’t want to freak you out.” 

“Dude! Yeah totally.. I don’t sleep with my equipment on why should you have to.” 

Alex smiles softly. 

“It’s a weird process I’m just gonna warn you. There’s some crazy noises that are gonna come from this bitch.” 

“So show me, educate me.” John says scooting closer to Alex on the bed, as he still sits on the floor. 

Alex laughs and pulls his pajama pant leg up, revealing the entirety of his prosthetic. The top covering his leg is a hard plastic, painted black with little flecks of glitter in it—   
“I like that.” John notes pointing to the paint of the fiberglass. 

“Thanks.” 

Alex presses a small button and with a small click, slowly pulls the leg off, explaining along the way. 

“The leg locks onto a special socket that creates an air lock and an actual lock to make sure I just don’t lose my leg in the middle of town.” John smiles and nods along, listening intently and seems genuinely interested. 

He takes the leg off and places it at the end of the bed. 

John examines the stump in front of him. There’s a special silicone cover that covers the remainder of Alex’s leg, and a metal pin at the bottom, where the prosthetic locked onto. 

“Is that in your leg? Or..?” John asks, pointing to the pin. Alex laughs softly and shakes his head ‘no’. 

“It’s part of this silicone cover, it’s silicone so my leg won’t sweat and be slippery in the socket” he says pointing back to the black plastic on the prosthetic. 

Alex just slips the silicone cover off and John looks at his remaining leg. There’s still red scars continuing up his leg, some staple scars up his thigh, and below his knee there is nothing, ‘obviously, stupid.’ John thinks to himself. 

“That was pretty cool... want to see me break down my processors in exchange?” John says— which makes Alex laugh, the rest of his anxious energy dissipating quickly. 

“Yeah, I'd like that.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for fighting, slurs, mention of blood nothing crazy bad but just to be safe!

chapter note: I never implied what day it was but just imagine it was Thursday and today is Friday okay good 

John woke up the next morning the same as every morning, his ears ringing. The burning sound of emptiness driving an instant headache deep into his skull, but that’s okay. 

It was okay today because even though his body hurt from sleeping on the floor of a friends house, his ears ringing and the sun burning his eyes, Alex was there. His friends were there. 

John sat up slowly, stretching his muscles as he moved, and reached for his implants. After clicking the batteries on he watched the indicator light blink once, twice. 

Okay, 50% battery for the day... I might have more batteries in my locker. 

John clicked the other battery onto the receiver and waited. 

One orange blink. 

“Fuck.” John mumbles. So we’re working with one fourth of a hearing aid today. 

He finally commits to getting up, throwing on his jeans and a shirt that was laid out on the bed for him and stumbles down the stairs. 

The group is surrounding the Schuyler's breakfast island, Angelica is flipping pancakes and passing them out. Everyone is oddly cheery for 6 am on a Friday. John can hear music playing, but it’s muddled and distorted coming through his one implant. He smiles at the sight of it though, his friends. His group of friends dancing and singing and eating. Alex catches his eye and motions for John to come sit next to him, a barstool reserved. 

John smiles and climbs up on the stool next to him. John instantly starts pulling apart a pancake in front of him, focusing on ripping the pieces evenly as he eats them. 

“How did you sleep?” Alex asks softly, watching John eat the pancake with his hands, dry with no syrup or butter. Kind of revolted, kind of intrigued. 

Ow— you sle—? 

That was the amount of what came though Johns processor. John could decipher most of it for the day. Get notes from friends and just focus on the lectures he’ll be fine. 

“Fine... my implant is dying. But fine, the floor left little to be desired.” He added with a chuckle. Internally he could feel the panic as his speech slurred. He could feel it, he could feel losing his speech as he can’t self correct. So he just won’t talk today, got it. 

“Are you gonna be okay today?” Angelica speaks up next, holding her own and spatula as the group turns to John 

Are —ou —— be okay —day?

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It happens all the time.” It doesn’t, Johns father has always laid into him about being aUdiToraLLy PrEpARed for whatever may occur with his implants which includes new batteries, a charger for his rechargeable batteries (which are broken and he has yet to tell his father), and a new cable that connects the pieces together— aptly named the coil wire. 

“Just because it happens all the time doesn’t mean you’ll be fine.” Hercules adds 

“We can help! I’m in your algebra 2 class, and Peggy is in your art humanities class—“ laf says, thinking about who else is in johns classes 

“Alex practically writes the curriculum for your economics class!” Eliza adds laughing softly. 

John smiles at this group, he’s never had a group of friends before. 

I promise to make y’all proud... 

—————

the car ride was silent, to John atleast. He decided it was best to just turn his implants off until he got into class to conserve battery. That didn’t stop Peggy from whipping out a small notebook and writing notes to him on the car ride to school. 

One note in particular struck him. 

Do you like Alexander? 

It made John freeze up, the pen caught in his hand with no answer to explain. Of course he liked Alexander. He was smart and kind and funny— he was a good friend. 

Whatever happened last night was a freak thing. Right? John had a girlfriend at his last school. Martha Manning, the sweetest girl in South Carolina. She was nice. She was beautiful. 

Not as beautiful as Alex in the moonlight. 

Fuck. 

Thankfully, the van door swung open as she nudged him to respond, and from the third row John was still the first one out and on his way to class already. 

————— 

‘Today fucking sucks’ was Johns only thought. His one remaining implant had died by 2nd period and many things came with that— missing information, being called on by the teacher then chastised greatly when he couldn’t understand or answer. One teacher went as far as to write questions on the board to him, which was fine but when he had to answer he saw the snickers around him and the whispers behind hands about him, about his voice, about how fucking dumb he must be, deaf and dumb that’s all he is is fucking dumb. 

You see, friends, John may seem confident and collected, but he’s not. Not at all. The words his own mind says to him are things he wouldn’t wish on anyone. He always makes sure to be kinder to others than he is to himself. 

By lunch he retreated well into his hoodie, the hood pulled over his head, drawstrings pulled tight and curls still peeping out around his face. He could only imagine how fucking wrecked he looked, with such little sleep and uncomfortable conditions, it just added to his sour mood. He didn’t even attempt to find the group, just found the farthest table away to put his head down. The cool linoleum of the table soothed his pounding headache, but did nothing to stop the ringing in his ears. Just two more periods then the bus ride and then he’ll be home. That’s only 3 hours, which is 30 minutes 6 times. He can make it. 

About ten minutes into lunch there’s a soft tap on his shoulder, he turns his head slightly to see Alex sitting next to him, notebook in hand ready to go, and worry across his face, even though he tried to mask it. He quickly scribbled something down and slid the notebook to John. 

You okay? 

In all honesty, John wasn’t. His mental health was at an all time low today. The laughs, the whispers, thinking about yesterday and how absolutely fucking idiotically stupid he is, was really weighing him down. Thinking about Alex and how confusing the whole thing has been. Listening to a constant high pitched, ear piercing screech in his head all day. 

I’m fine, long day. 

he slid the notebook back, knowing it’s a fucking lie but he can’t make others worry about him. He isn’t that important that he needs to take up space in peoples head. 

Come on, let’s go. 

Alex stuck his hand out and stood up waiting for John to follow. And how could John say no? 

————— 

Mr. Washington’s room is always ice cold. John welcomes it today, giving him more of a reason to shrink into his hoodie than before. Alex pulled him into the class and started chatting with George. 

George happened to glance at him, and it hurt his heart. John was a shell of his former self, sunken and resigned, he just sat in a desk and laid his head down. 

“So do you have a battery or not? I know it’s a crapshoot chance, but you’re a junk collector and you have to have something!” 

George continues to rummage through his drawers, collecting a slew of random small batteries, ranging in size and type. 

He comes and kneels in front of the desk John occupies, tapping softly. John looks up and slides his hood off, his eyes look glassy, and hazed. He’s different, and George hates it. But there is a small twinkle in his eye when he’s presented with the handful of batteries.  
He instantly pulled out his receivers and began checking batteries. 

After a few minutes of Alex and George idly chatting, John found two matching batteries and stepped up to join them. 

“Thank you— literally thank you so much” 

George just nods and takes the remaining batteries, retreating to his desk. 

John turns to Alex and quickly embraces him 

Alex just laughs and hugs him back tightly, glad to have the cheery John back, the sweet John. 

Alex feels that warmth spreading in his chest. It’s been a while, it really has. It’s stupid— it’s a stupid fucking thought. That someone like John could like someone like Alex. 

—————

The rest of the day went by in a breeze. John was giggly, and happy again. He was interested in class again and chatting. The last bell rang and the hallways were thinning out quickly, but still a good number of kids walking to practices or their cars. John was trading out some books from his locker idly chatting to Peggy and Alex 

“I’m just saying pegs, if push came to shove, doctor strange is the most powerful avenger.” Alex says, pleading his case

“Are you serious? Thor is literally truly a GOD, Alexander. A GOD!!!” Peggy adds exasperatedly. 

John just laughs, but doesn’t have time to respond with his thought on the best avenger. An eerie silence has fallen between Peggy and Alex. He looks up at them and turns to see what they’re both staring at. 

Of course it’s Thomas. 

John just sighs and closes his locker not even turning to face Thomas 

“Let’s go.” 

Thomas throws an arm around Johns shoulder before he can leave 

“Where are you going so quick Johnny boy?” Thomas says, flicking one of Johns receivers. He shutters at the feedback it causes and shoves Thomas’ arm off his shoulder. 

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING JOHN? Or are you too deaf to even hear me?” Thomas says exaggerating his words. John feels his blood boil but just keeps walking away with Peggy and Alexander. 

“So you’re gonna stick with the other kid on the short-bus-squad? The peg leg asshole over there? Really John? Just gonna brand yourself with the scarlet A and stick with the invalid?” 

Johns eyes instantly snap to Alex, all the color has drained from his face. He’s clutching his textbook to his chest and his fingers are turning white. 

Before anyone can stop him he throws his backpack down, takes his processors off and hands them to Alex and instantly runs up to Thomas, his fist colliding with his jaw. 

It was enough to knock Thomas down to the ground and John is on top of him swinging on him. The last few kids who were in the building are instantly around them chanting 

‘fight, fight, fight!’ 

“Holy shit, Alex go find Laf and Herc!” Peggy tells over the chanting trying to get through the circle of teens to break up the fight. 

Alex runs out of the building and spots Herc and Laf waiting by the car. 

“Hey dude where have you guys been? We thought you left us h—“ before Herc can finish Alex cuts him off 

“Nononono please please just come back Thomas and John are fighting and they’re not stopping come on!!” Alex rambles out, panic across his face, 

Herc runs in first, pushing the horde of kids out of the way, it’s been a pretty even fight, though John is on top of Thomas throwing blow after blow. Peggy is still pulling on his hoodie trying to get them separated. Herc steps in and grabs John, his arms slipping under Johns, and picking him up by the armpits. The minute he’s off Thomas scatters away. 

The group of students quickly dissipates as well, so it’s just the 5 of them are left in the hallway, and Angelica and Eliza finally burst in from their art club meeting. 

“What the FUCK is going on here!?” Angelica is shocked by the scene in front of her, John is now sitting on the ground, Peggy is at his side holding a tissue to his nose that’s still dripping blood through the tissue, Herc is assessing his knuckles that are already turning red and purple, sure to be sore in the morning. 

Alex softly slides Johns hair back, placing his processor back around his ear, and making sure the magnet connects 

“Let’s just get him home you guys. the teachers must’ve left already, so we’ll chalk that up to a Monday problem.” Eliza says, reaching a hand out to help John up. 

————— 

John was silent the entire ride, pensively looking out the window, as if on cue the rain drops begin beating the window. 

Laf and Herc had John around their shoulders as they walked into the house, they were met by a plumb woman, not much older than 30, with short blond curls framing her face. 

“John! Oh my word what happened sweet boy?” 

John lulls his head towards her and flashes a charismatic smile in her direction 

“Don’t tell father, please Ms. Kitty?” 

She just sighs and pushes his curls back to show his eyes, making him follow her finger across his face. He does easily. 

She then moves onto the group that has brought him in, scanning them each up and down. Alex could almost feel his skin burning as she watched him. 

“You have a lovely home.” Peggy pips up speaking to kitty, trying to ease the tension. 

Instantly kitty is off on a tangent dragging Peggy and her sisters along to look at crown moldings. 

Herc and Laf followed Johns instructions to his room upstairs, helping him the whole way. 

They sit him on his bed, where Alex sits next to him. 

Herc and laf pat his shoulder and leave to find the girls and their tour of the house Kitty has been waiting to give guests. 

“I’m sorry.” John squeaks as he places a new napkin against his face 

Alex’s head snaps up to meet Johns eyes 

“You’re sorry? For what?!” 

“Defending your honor I guess.” 

Alex laughs softly, scooting closer to John 

“Defending my Honor you say? Well it was a fine display of affection, My dear Laurens.” 

John just sighs and scoots so he’s sitting next to Alex now 

“But really, I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have said that. I probably shouldn’t have hit him but— it’s all his fault for saying that.” 

Alex chuckles again, as John lays down against his pillows. 

Alex gets up, guessing John would like to sleep, and he’d need a ride home. 

“Wait...” 

Alex turns to John, who is sitting up slightly in bed 

“Will you lay with me? Until I fall asleep?”


	5. Boats In The Current

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reuploaded bc literally no one saw it last time

The semester has progressed quickly, John easing into this new life with his new friends and his new routines.. and his new...? 

Best friend? 

Person who endlessly flirts and gets flirted with? 

Crush...? Yeah crush...

John feels his heart squeeze and release whenever he sees Alex. Whenever Alex walks into the cafeteria, whenever he walks into home room, and smiles that smile. 

The wildly confident energy that Alexander has is radiating off of him, constantly warming John in the January cold. 

The fiery spirit is always something to marvel, whenever he argues with Aaron, or Mr. Washington, or even friendly debates with John, which when John is done participating in he just removes his implant and continues doodling in his notebook. 

John doesn’t know what to do with his crush, he wishes it would just dissipate and leave behind a friendship like all the other crushes have done before. 

But no, something about Alexander has a steadfast hold on his heart. 

But right now, John should really be paying attention as Peggy shows him some signs from her ASL 3 class. Lunch as usual is loud and overwhelming, so Johns implants are tucked away into his backpack safely. 

As a child, John was never allowed to learn ASL. he remembers his first nanny teaching him simple signs while words continued to fall short from his mouth, but she was quickly fired. 

Peggy is pointing to some pictures, then signing the sign, which John smiles and copies. His father would go ballistic if he saw this, but something about that makes John want to do it more. 

Alexander slumps down in between John and Peggy instantly leaning on Johns shoulder. Peggy swats Alex’s arm and is clearly chewing him out for interrupting her teaching, but John a) cannot hear and b) even if he could hear, he’d be too distracted by Alexander’s Mango shampoo scent on his shoulder, warm and secure. 

After Peggy turns back to her notes, John shrugs his shoulder softly so Alex will look up. 

“What’s wrong?” John says, his enunciation slipping away, genuine concern lacing his voice. 

Alex smiles tiredly and pulls out his phone, typing quickly. 

“Just tired. Midterms are kicking my ass. Econ, government and English 3 honors all have big projects.” 

John nods sympathetically. He only has one true final project, and it’s for art. The rest of his classes he either finished early, like economics, or didn’t have a final for at all. 

“I’m sorry...you want to come over tonight? it’s Friday, Take a break, Alexander.” John says laughing softly, trying to remember not to be too loud, not be too much of a distraction to the rest of the friends. 

“You know you’re the only one who calls me Alexander?” Alex types out quickly and shows John the phone. 

John laughs and smiles brightly, a blush tinging across his cheeks and ears. 

“If you don’t like it I can stop.” 

Alex just smiles and begins typing again 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll give you a pass to call me Alexander. And I can’t do a movie tonight, I have so much to do.” 

John nods thoughtfully. “How about tonight I just FaceTime and make sure you’re not dead under a pile of textbooks?” 

This makes Alex laugh. Even though he can’t hear it, the beautiful blissful joy on Alexander’s face is enough. 

——————

it’s a cool night, snow flitting down under the streetlights slowly as John worked on his 2D to 3D design project. It was one of his new passions, he thought he was good enough at the designing, but his teacher, Mrs. Franklin, was obsessed with his work. She fawned over his work constantly, and even showed him a few colleges he could apply to with his portfolio she was helping him build. 

He never realized that a) designing and sculpting was so fun and b) he could go to college for it. 

He has early acceptance to Columbia for law because of his father, but this was a fun side hobby to have. 

Henry Laurens would never, in a million billion years, approve John— the prodigal son— to go to college for art. 

John sighs as he puts down his pencil, looking back onto his design. It’s a series of sculptures, his friends as the muses. 

Lafayette— Erato, the muse of love songs   
Hercules— Calliope, the muse of heroic songs   
Angelica— Clio, the muse of history   
Eliza— Euterpe, the muse of music   
Peggy— Thalia, the muse of comedy 

And finally Alexander. 

For Alexander he chose the muse of tragedy, Melpomene. 

He hates the design, he really does. Just something about it he can’t get right. 

He closes his notebook and shoves it away, opening his laptop and instantly clicking Alex’s contact to FaceTime. 

He stares at himself,

I’m no great prize he thinks to himself. 

Broken, and half fixed, ears don’t work, brain won’t work, and kind of ugly he thinks as he stares at himself, beginning to critique every small part of himself. 

His hair is too frizzy   
His eyes are too far apart   
His freckles are absolutely ugly. 

That’s probably what he hates the most about himself. 

His patchy, splotchy face. Dotted with hundreds and hundreds of imperfections. 

before he can tear himself apart anymore, an exasperated Alexander pops on the screen. John connects his implant to the Bluetooth of his laptop and smiles brightly, shaking the negative thoughts from his brain, focusing on Alexander. 

Alexander’s tension melts away and he smiles weakly. He looks like he’s been beat up, the day itself has driven the sleep into his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” John asks, concern lacing his voice 

“I—“ Alex hesitates, nervous to be truly vulnerable. 

Because a lot has happened to Alex in the last 5 hours. Two people in his group project dropped out, and the fourth can’t pick up anymore of the load because she works a full time job, so there’s that. 

Then in economics, his paper was deleted when his laptop spazzed and shut down. 

THEN, because terrible things come in threes, he had to make a fucking diorama of a scene from The Great Gatsby and has no artistic bones in any parts of his body, so he's staring at an empty amazon box, with scrapbook paper in it, with no fucking idea what to do. 

But he doesn’t want to be overbearing, he doesn’t want to scare John away with his anxiety. 

His stupid, stupid anxiety that always sits at the back of his neck, pressing down onto his spine. 

Right now it feels like a million pounds of pressure pressing into his muscles. 

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, then falls to rubbing his eyes. 

"Honestly John... I'm fucking drowning."

The concern that crosses John’s face is exactly what Alexander did NOT want. 

but he can’t stop himself from talking. 

“It’s just...everything is going fucking wrong and I can feel my heart rate speeding up and I’m going to have an anxiety attack and I’m going to fuck up and get kicked out of school and I don’t want to because I like the school but I fucked my diorama and then two people left the fucking government class and I can’t do all the work and Ziomara can’t pick up anymore of the stuff so I have to do it all and then my paper got erased and I feel like I’m underwater and can’t get u—“ 

He’s babbling. He can’t stop himself though, this is absolute word vomit. 

He finally stops, and John is silent. 

“Well... I’ll be over in ten minutes okay?” 

Before he can even say no, (which he wouldn’t have said no anyway why are you lying to yourself Alexander) John logs off and shuts his computer 

————— 

Something about not being able to clearly hear makes Johns ability to sneak out at midnight much harder. So here he is, backpack crammed with his laptop, iPad and chargers, among other random school supplies, in a black hoodie— you know, for stealth— trying to remember which step creaks as he goes downstairs. 

The lights to the foyer click on, and of course, Kitty has caught him. 

She’s wrapped tightly in her house coat, hair up in pink curlers 

“And where are you sneaking off to?” She says softly, to not wake his siblings. 

“Ms. Kitty, my friend really needs help.” 

She nods 

“The same friend you got in a fight for?” 

He nods sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head 

“Hmm, fighting... sneaking out... for a friend? Is she just a friend?” 

John shifts his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. 

The air in the closet is stifling to say the least. 

“Uh...” 

Kitty rolls her eyes 

“John I may be up in years but I am not blind. I’ve known you since you were a small babe running around. I know damn well when you have a crush! Now go help this girl out! But make sure you’re home by the morning, Mr. Laurens will be home around 8 and I don’t want you to look a mess.” 

John smiles weakly and jogs out. 

There’s three thoughts buzzing around his head 

1\. he should tell Kitty. She’s the closest thing he has to a mother, and the kindest parental figure he has. She would be accepting, right? Who knows. Not John.   
2\. his father. Home. Tomorrow. He’ll have to hide his art project. Henry would absolutely combust if he found out that John was wasting precious time on an art class, let alone an expansive, 6 Statue series.  
3\. Alexander being okay.

————— 

Climbing into Alexander’s window was easy enough. 

Falling into a room that is absolutely covered in notebook paper, textbooks and various stationery across the floor was in fact, a little difficult. In the middle sits Alex, head in his hands over a copy of The Great Gatsby. 

“You know... someone just snuck in your window and you didn’t even flinch?” 

Alex lulls his head to the side, indifference and exhaustion in his voice 

“I was hoping you were a serial killer coming to end my suffering.” 

John laughs and clears a spot for himself, and slides the book from under Alexander, collecting his his supplies for the diorama. 

Glue, glitter, little people figurines. 

“What are you doing?” Alexander asks as he watches him flit around the room, picking up random supplies. 

“Making your diorama while you finish your paper, and when I’m done with this I’ll make the charts for your government project.” 

Alex stands up quickly, trying to take the supplies from John. 

“John no- Thats not why I invited you here!” 

John just puts a hand on Alexander’s as he’s trying to take the empty Amazon box back 

“Alexander you didn’t invite me here, I came of my own will. To make your diorama.” 

Alex drops his hand, and feels the overwhelming need to cry. 

“You’re just— you just want to help me?” 

John smiles fondly, and claps his hand softly on Alexander’s shoulder 

“Get to work, Alexander.” 

——————

Before he knows it, John has finished the diorama. It’s pretty detailed, and Mrs. Madison is gonna know Alexander did NOT make it, but John is just passionate about art and The Great Gatsby okay? 

He’s giving Alexander the rundown of the meaning of the diorama. 

“So it’s two parts,” he says pointing inside the box, and to the outside where a little cardboard dock sits, with a single LED green light on it, connected to the main box by a blue ribbon. 

“In the box, is the party, woo yeah cool everyone is having fun roaring 20s party yeah yeah yeah, but by leaving a good half inch of space between Gatsby and all the other party goers, it shows his isolation in anonymity.” John says. Pointing to the little blonde figure who is sticking out, isolated and no one is focusing on him, even though he is the host. 

“And if you look, he’s in perfect line with the window, to look out to the green light on this dock, which is Daisy’s. And he spends the whole party, every party, waiting for Daisy to come. The green light just out of reach, always just a step away. It’s hope, it’s his hope, you know? It’s the American dream, you work your ass off and you’ll reach your goal someday.” John looks up to Alex, who’s head is right next to his as they both stare out the tiny cardboard window. 

Alexander can’t say he was listening, he knows the story. 

But John when he explains it? This little diorama he put so much work into? 

It may as well be Beethoven explaining Symphony number 9.

Alexander just nods and smiles. 

They break off and begin working again, Alexander completing his paper, and John drawing up some charts for Alexander’s project. 

—————— 

John rolls over and stretches softly, grasping for his phone that was long abandoned behind him. He checks the time 

8:52AM 

FUCK 

Instantly he’s up, scrambling to collect his things, and pull his sneakers on. Alexander wakes up with a start, scrambling up from the floor 

“What’s going on?! John?” 

John just continues to collect his things 

Alex sighs, remembering his implants are probably dead. 

He grabs Johns arm softly, and he practically jumps out of his skin. 

“Fuck. Implants dead.” John says simply 

“Gotta go, my father is home. I’m sorry—“ he mumbles as he practically jumps out of the window. Alex just stands there as the whirlwind of John Laurens dissipates and Alexander is left with the distraction. 

Martha is waiting for him on the porch tapping her foot angerly. 

“Where have you been!?” 

John just shrugs and points to his ear, indicating he can’t hear her. She sighs and throws a set of pajamas at him as she composes a text 

Dads home, we lied and said you’re tired from a tough finals week. Climb in your window and put pajamas on. 

John does as he’s told, taking time to change his batteries, as well as put the old ones on their charger. He changes quickly and ruffles his hair. It helps he was already asleep, he guesses. 

He stretches and walks out of his room, socked feet padding across the floor, to the kitchen. 

Where at the table, his father sits. 

Senator Henry Laurens. 

A big man, in stature and width. He truly is a fearful sight, taller than most, and strong. His voice booms across the house, his laugh can shake window panes. His hair is neatly combed back, and his moustache doesn’t have a hair out of place. He’s dressed in his formal blazer, clearly ready to head out as quick as he arrived home. 

“Ah, Jack! We thought you’d never wake.” Mr. Laurens yells across the kitchen. 

“Good morning father, sorry— studies ran late last night for my finals on Monday.” John says as he approaches the table. 

Mr. Laurens sticks out his hand, which John shakes. The same formal greeting they’ve had since he was 4. 

“Did you complete your audiology tests today? Lings** and all that?” 

God— John hates lings. It’s such a stupid fucking test as if all the idiosyncrasies of English can fit in a test based on the 6 most common sounds in the English language. 

“Oh of course he did Mr. Laurens, I finished it up for him riiiiight before he came out— you know John, eager to please.” Kitty supplied cheerfully as she stood behind Mr. Laurens and filled his dish, throwing a ‘you owe me’ look up to John. 

He just nods at his father, and hopes kitty understands his look is him giving one thousand thank-yous to her. 

Mr. Laurens motions him to sit, and fill him in on Johns time at school that he missed. 

John does, and the whole conversation he thinks of Alexander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ling test is a test people with cochlear implants do to check theyre hearing the most common parts of speech by making the 6 most common sounds, ee oo aa sh ss mm. 
> 
> Please comment!!! I love reading your little comments, thank uuuu


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw for abuse/anxiety 
> 
> School, destruction, soft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone say thank you Kam bc they rly wanted me to update.

The week following was torture for John. 

His father makes sure to wake him by 5:30 AM every day, where they do a Ling test, John goes on a mile run—orchestrated by Henry— , showers, reads a mock case study that his father told him would start prepping him for law school, and was given a book to start reading based around federal and judicial cases that rocked America that he had to submit a written response of every night about what he previously read. 

All this to say, He was fucking exhausted. 

He’s missed hanging out three times with his friends to read, or write, or fucking annotate something. 

His implants also must be on at all times at home, even when Patsy and Jemmy are screaming at each other, or (even) when they’re at dinner and everyone is talking and clattering plates and silverware and he’s tired. 

Mr. Laurens took his phone, it was a distraction. 

Mr. Laurens disabled iMessage and FaceTime on his laptop, it was a distraction. 

He hasn’t even been in lunch, because he’s been in the library catching up on all of the things he’s been assigned to do, as if Henry is his teacher. 

Not a ‘how are you?’ Or ‘I love you, son.’ Just 'how is school?' and 'get to work'. 

He’s moved seats away from all of his friends in class, because Mr. Laurens found out he got a B- on his progress report, and all hell broke loose. 

~~~~~~  
Kitty was still so proud of him that it was hung on their fridge. All A’s and a B- in government, maybe because he stares at Alexander for the whole class, maybe because it’s a hard class. They'd never know. 

That was the one thing everyone forgot to move once Mr. Laurens arrived home. 

“Johnathan David Laurens, what is this?” His father approached the kitchen table where John sat, progress report in his fist. 

Johns heart dropped to his stomach and through the floor.

There were three beats of silence, then the Swift crack of a slap sending Johns head flying to the side, and his cochlear implant off his head, tumbling to the ground and skidding across the tile.

Kitty gasped, and scurried to Johns side, picking up his implant and rubbing his cheek, hushing him quietly as tears spring to his eyes. 

“Katherine, get up. You’re the reason he’s such a pansy. It was just a little smack to get him focused. If I see you baby him again I won’t think twice to replace you!!” Henry roars across the kitchen as he drops the progress report in the trash.

John stopped sitting by Alexander in Government. 

John finds himself wishing his father would leave again as he recalls the memory in the library.

He’s even had clothes laid out for him again. Every night Kitty comes in with a sympathetic look on her face and a stack of “respectable clothes”. 

Usually fresh pressed khakis, a nice polo shirt, and a grey cardigan. 

The first Monday John tried to wear his vans with his ‘respectable’ clothes...

That did not work out in his favor. 

As John descended the stairs, Henry waited for him at the last step. He looked John up and down, then pulled his own blazer straight, crossing his arms. 

John stood a little straighter, head a little higher 

“Are you trying to embarrass me, Jack? Is that what this is? You want to sully the Laurens name?” 

John feels himself holding his breath, waiting for another hit. 

_Just let me go, please just let me go to school._

“No, sir.” 

Mr. Laurens clears his throat, then looks John up and down again 

“Then why are you leaving this house looking like a fucking street rat?” Mr. Laurens practically spits the words into Johns face, who flinches back from the words. 

He wore brown loafers that day. 

————— 

It’s now Friday. He sits in the library at lunch for the fifth day in a row, highlighting the details in the Miranda vs. Arizona case and he’s tired. 

His hair is pulled neatly back into a low ponytail, his usual two braids abandoned. _Respectable._

There’s a migraine behind his eyes, it burns and he can’t even stand to keep his head up anymore. 

He just has to make it through the weekend. Henry goes back to the campaign trail and his apartment in Washington DC and he will leave John alone. 

Alexander is his last thought as he drifts off to sleep in the library. 

—————

He’s awoken by the librarian, Mr. Franklin, shaking him softly. John jumps up and smacks his implant back on as Mr. Franklin is talking 

“Son, we’re well into 6th period. I’ll write you a pass but you have to get going.” 

With a library pass in hand, John practically runs all the way to Mr. Washington’s class, body slamming into the door as he swings it open. 

Mr. Washington looks at him incredulously from the white board, marker in hand as John stands there. 

John just hands him the pass and turns to the class. The only open seat is, of course, next to Alexander. 

He sighs, and slithers into the seat, opening his notebook to copy the notes. 

About 10 minutes in, Alexander slides a folded up note onto the desk. 

John glances at it, and simply flicks it off the desk onto the floor. He needs to get his grade up in this class and Alexander can’t distract him. 

He sees Alexander lean over to pick up the note out of the corner of his eye, and stare at him. John just gets back to work. 

The bell rings and every student leaves except Alexander. Who just sits there. Staring. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, John?” 

He doesn’t look up, he can feel himself slipping into a dissociative state already. Disconnected, not here. Somewhere else. 

Maybe he’s here, but last week, before Henry arrived. Or maybe it’s next week and Henry is already gone. 

John is back in his Jeans, and his grimy hoodie that Lafayette stitched a yellow heart onto. His hair is braided, or even out and his curls are wild but neat, his vans are the same old beat up vans he wears every day. 

“John? Hello? Earth to John? You’re just gonna—“ the anger breaks in his voice as Alexander chokes on his own anxiety 

“You’re just gonna ignore me?” 

John doesn’t look up, he’s still far away in his own mind. 

“Alexander meet me at the van. Go.” George says thrusting the keys into Alex’s hand. He leaves. 

George kneels next to Johns unmoving body, pencil still clutched in his hand like it’s going to break at any second. 

“John? Son, can you hear me?” 

John looks over, and blinks a few times lazily. As he realizes there are no other students his face shifts to anxiety and worry, instantly stuffing his backpack 

“John, John it’s okay we need to talk.” 

“I-I can’t Mr. Washington, my father is waiting for me.” 

George puts his hand on Johns arm to still him. 

“You’re a bus rider?” 

“Not on the weeks my father is here. _The bus is a governmental tool to add to the laziness of the American student and works towards dumbing our kids down and devaluing the time we have in a day.”_

It’s like a prompt. John can recall it like a prompt from the millions of times Mr. Laurens has said it to him. 

Before George can say anything else, John is gone in a flash out the door. 

—————

George sighs as he climbs in the van, Alex is silent in the passengers seat. Lafayette has band practice today, so it’s just the two of them driving home. 

“What do you know about Henry Laurens?” George asks as they pull out of the driveway. 

“Politically he’s a scumbag career politician who lies and cheats his way into senate seats and now he’s working his way into being governor of South Carolina, personally, John has never ever mentioned him in more than passing.” 

George just nods 

“Why?” 

“I’m not sure, but something is going on with Mr. Laurens being home.” 

Alexander just nods, looking down at his phone “John's phone is off, and so is his laptop iMessage. He won’t even look at me. I don’t even know what I did, you know? Usually they tell me— ‘Alex you’re too over bearing’, ‘Alex you’re too weird.’ Or oh, my favorite ‘Alex, you never stop talking, you don’t even listen to me’.” Alex says with a watery laugh. 

“-You know? Like the silence is probably the worst. Just— just tell me what I did and I’ll be better.” 

George throws the car in park at a stop sign and turns to Alex 

“Son, you have to give him time. I’m not one to throw around rumors but... something is going on with Henry and the way he treats John.” George sighs and squeezes his shoulder, “When everyone left he just sat there. He didn’t move, it’s like he was just a shell of the old John.” 

Alexander sighs shakily, batting the panic attack away. 

“I just wish he’d tell me.” 

“When he’s ready, Alexander.” 

——————

John could finally take his first breath once he got home. His fathers car was nowhere on the street. He creeped in silently, to find Kitty dusting in the living room 

“He has a dinner with Mr. DeBlasio tonight, he said he’d be home late.” 

John visibly relaxes, dropping his backpack on the couch, and himself after it 

“He means well John, You know that.” Kitty sits next to him and pats his leg softly 

“Kitty that isn’t fair. He isn’t like this to Martha or Patsy or Jem.” 

“They’re just children, John.” 

John sighs and slams himself back into the couch. “But I was a kid too! As soon as I could read I was reading Law books! No captain underpants, or diary of a wimpy kid! Having manuscripts read to me!” 

He stands now, slamming his hands down “you know the last time he said I love you? Or I’m PROUD OF ALL THE WORK YOU'RE PUTTING IN?” 

He can feel his chin beginning to wobble, tears threatening. 

“Or.. or how mad he’d be—“ 

His art project. His fucking art project is due next Tuesday. 

Fuck

Fuck 

FUCK. 

“John please, you’re scaring me... just— just go lay down a little bit. Take them off, I know you’re tired and I know it’s been such a hard week...” 

He just nods, already taking his implants off as he heads upstairs. 

——————— 

That’s where the night began it’s descent into chaos. 

Johns implants were off, his music was on with the speakers on the ground so he could feel the vibrations as he stood and began finishing his art final. 

His bed is cluttered with old art pieces, paintings he’s made in class, paintings he’s worked on independently. His friends, Portraits, landscapes. The house they live in now. 

Even a work in progress of his mother, his prized painting. 

He honestly hasn’t put any effort into anything like this before, he has references— 

Pictures of his friends, pictures of the muses. 

A bag of clay supplied by his art teacher, gratefully excited for his pieces. 

So far, two statues are done, and the other four are planned out, clay weighted out and wire frames made. 

John is amazed so far how much this is working. He’s in love with the little Eliza and Peggy statues that are already coming together, they look just like their respective muses and— 

Honestly John is impressed with himself. 

Looking back, he probably made a mistake going all out, with his implants off, and his back to the door. 

Around 11pm Henry Laurens arrived home, Kitty and the children were in the game room in the basement watching a movie, he said his good nights to them. 

As he ascended the stairs, the music began to grow louder, almost overwhelmingly loud. 

He followed the sound to Johns room, banging on the door to tell him to turn it down. 

No answer 

“Johnathan! Answer this door!” 

None. 

Well, Henry is the home owner and father, therefore he is entering whether John likes it or not. 

He barges in to a sight that instantly has him seeing red. Wasted time, wasted energy, a fucking waste. 

John continues to sculpt with his back to Henry and no implants on. 

—————

John felt his shoulder grabbed harshly and pulled around, knocking him out of his desk chair and onto the ground with a thud. 

His father was definitely screaming at the top of his lungs. John scrambles up and grabs his implants shakily, throwing them on himself. The screaming instantly flooded his head 

“—THIS IS WHY YOU'RE FAILING GOVERNMENT? ART? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WHAT A FUCKING WASTE! A WASTE OF MATERIAL, A WASTE OF TIME AND A WASTE OF A FUCKING LIFE.” 

His father storms over, and John instantly cowers waiting for the blow to come. 

It doesn’t, but perhaps something worse does. 

Henry picked up the first statue, and without even glancing at it, smashes it against the floor. Instantly flattening the still wet clay. 

“No, no PLEASE!” John yells trying to pick up the statue, his father instantly stepping on the clay, effectively crushing the last salvageable parts of the art. 

He continues to crush the other statue, as well as the wire figures for the other four. John has curled in on himself, crying and screaming no. 

He moved onto the pictures next, retrieving the scissors from his desk, instantly beginning to cut up the paintings. First, the painting of the house. 

He works through them one by one. 

Finally, he reaches for the picture of his mother. Instantly John is on his feet pulling on Henry’s arm 

“Please, PLEASE NO! Please!” John begs as tears run down his face, pooling and dripping off his chin. Instantly Henry shoves him hard, causing John to stumble back to the ground. 

Henry stares at it for a moment, it truly is a beautiful portrait of Eleanor, it really is. She’s smiling, almost a carbon copy of a memory Henry has of his wife. He can’t stand to look at it any longer, the pain stinging his racing heart. He makes eye contact with John as he stabs the painting, ripping the canvas. Again and again. 

Once he’s done, the flings the shreds of the painting to John. 

“Clean this up.” He spits as he storms out of the room, slamming the door. 

————— 

John doesn’t know what time he got up, or what time he changed into his same jeans, his same shoes his same hoodie as always. John doesn’t know when he climbed out his window and began the three block trek to the Washington’s house. He doesn’t know what time it started pouring rain, but his hood is pulled over his head, and pulled the strings tightly. He just needs to get away, torrential downpour or not. 

He doesn’t know if he ever stopped crying. But the tears just continue. He doesn’t even bother with the front door, just right up to Alexander’s window again, peeping in.  
—————  
Since Alexander got home, he hasn’t had any motivation to do anything. He stripped out of his grimy school clothes, removed his prosthetic leg, and changed into his gym shorts robotically, rhythmically, his brain still foggy from the weeks events. 

What did he do to John? Is it because he came to help him? That was a week ago! 

_You shouldn’t have answered you fucking idiot! You guilted into coming to help you and now he hates you!_

_Fucking stupid._

Alex just takes a deep breath and grabs his cane from the side of his bed, getting up and turning to his bookshelf. 

He picks up his favorite book, a well worn copy of The Alchemist, and plops himself at his desk. 

Even the words of his book can’t pull him out of this fog. He worries for John, is he okay? Is something going on with his dad? 

He even started dressing different. He doesn’t talk in any classes? 

Alex just sighs and props his head up with his hand as he tries to read the same page for the 100th time. 

——————

He just sits there, hands in his head at his desk. John can see his prosthetic leg is already off for the night, he’s in his gym shorts and a hoodie, just reading. 

John knocks on the window.

Alexander jumps up and turns to the window. At first, he’s angry, he grabs his cane, gets up and slams the window open. 

But he melts instantly when he sees Johns face. 

“Can I please just come in?” 

Alex nods and moves over so John can climb in.

“John you’re soaking wet, let me get you a change of clothes.” Alex turns to his dresser and pulls out a pullover sweater, and a pair of sweatpants. Alex turns around so he can change.

John taps him on the shoulder once he’s done and when Alex turns around... 

This John is different than any John he’s met so far. 

This John is quiet, he’s turned in to himself. He’s sad. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

John spills the beans, he describes the hell week his father had put him through. He’s crying into his hands. They’re both sitting on his bed at this point and John just cries in his hands, sobs wracking his chest. 

“John, John look at me.” Alex leans forward and rests his hands on Johns legs, that are crossed in front of him. John looks up, his bloodshot eyes are so sad, his long eyelashes sticking together. 

“I’m gonna hug you okay?” 

John looks surprised even a little confused. 

“I— do you know how long it is since I’ve had a hug?” 

Alex practically bodyslams him down into the bed, crushing him in a tight cuddle. 

John just wraps his arms around him tightly, sobbing into Alex’s hoodie as Alex holds him, and rubs his back shushing him softy.

After a few minutes, Johns breathing evens out, he’s breathing in the sweet sent of Alex, what does Martha use for laundry? Gain? Gotta be. 

“It’s not that it matters from me, but I am so fucking proud of you.” 

John looks up at him, his sad eyes seem to twinkle, for just a moment, and he looks down again resting his head on Alexander’s chest 

“You don’t have to lie to me Alexander.” 

Alex grabs his chin and tilts his head up softly, their noses are almost touching 

“I’d never lie to you, you fucking amaze me every day. The first day we hung out you made me feel not so alone, about my leg, about my anxiety and you’re so smart. You’re so fucking smart you amaze me. I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

John has fresh tears collecting in his eyes, and he just smiles and buries his face into Alex again. 

And for the first night in a week, John slept peacefully. 

Alex, though is wide awake. 

First, he pulls off Johns implants softly, the first is easily accessible, the second Alex has to maneuver off his head from under the pillow. He shuts them off and softly reaches over John to put them on the table. The next thing he thinks to do is text Kitty, she’s probably worried sick about John. When they first dragged John home from the fight Kitty gave Alexander her number in case of emergencies. 

**Alex:** I’m not sure if you remember, but you gave me your number for emergencies  
**Alex:** it’s Alex btw, I was there when we carried John home from his fight.  
**Alex:** anyway, uh, not sure if you know, but John ran away because your employer is an insurmountable douchebag.  
**Alex:** That’s not why I’m here  
**Alex** : all this to say, John is here. At my house, he’s safe. He’s asleep. 

his phone begins to ring instantly, it’s Kitty 

“Hello?” Alexander says, slightly annoyed that older people can’t just answer a text 

“Is he okay? It’s raining, did he walk there? The bus? Does he have a fever? Is he okay?” Kitty instantly is rambling off into the receiver. 

“He’s fine. He’s shaken up about what Henry did. Has anyone ever mentioned that Mr. Laurens is an asshole to you?” 

Kitty just sighs, considering for a second. 

“You know this isn’t even the worst he’s ever been? There was a time when John was a child—“ she pauses “he just, never had somewhere to run to the other times, I think. He feels safe with you.” 

Alex looks down, realizing his other hand has made its way into Johns curls, rubbing his head softly, as John cuddles closer to his chest, mouth agape as he snores softly. 

“His father leaves tomorrow, would you mind letting him stay there, then just send him home around 9? His fathers car service will be here by 9:30, so he can at least say goodbye.” 

“Yeah, yeah he can stay. But, I’m coming with him tomorrow.” 

There’s a long pause from Kitty 

“You’re the one he came to help the other day? Aren’t you?” 

Alex holds his breath, did John sneak out again? 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you care for him?” 

“Of course I do.” 

She chuckles 

“No, do you care for him? Do you love him?” 

Alexander freezes, anxiety rising from his stomach and into his throat. 

“That’s a loaded question, Kitty.” 

“I don’t know many who would throw themselves in the line of Henry Laurens, let alone to defend his son. It just doesn’t seem like something a friend would do. Well, I’m going to head to bed. Keep him safe Alexander.” 

Did Alex love John? He very much KNOWS he likes John, but this is different. This is different than any crush he’s had before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come interact w me on tumblr @yosoytriste or PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS THANK YOU ILY

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you think something is incorrect please point it out and we can discuss! The experiences I write from are my own as a person with hearing loss, a CODA, and working with deaf kids. I’m always open to educate, explain or be educated! Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated and replied to! Muah! 
> 
> Come chat with me on tumblr! @yosoytriste !


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